Joined By The Highlander: A Scottish Time Travel Romance

Book 13: Highlander Forever

by Rebecca Preston

Genres: Ancient World Romance; Scottish & Highlander

Synopsis

When she’s thrust back in time to 16th century Scotland, Ivy must use her future skills to deal with the turmoil in the past while also dealing with her growing feelings for Edward…

Child psychologist Ivy Jones has spent her life working with autistic and neurodivergent children. But when a car accident leaves her waking up near drowning in Loch Ness in ancient Scotland, the last thing she expects is to find herself embroiled in a drama that needs her special skill-set.

Edward Grant has been tasked with investigating an allegation from the visiting Gilroy clan—that the baby of the chieftain has been stolen by local fae and replaced by the changeling. The strange behavior of the child makes it hard for Edward to contest the claims, but when he rescues a woman from the future, he learns her special knowledge may actually help him in his quest.

As love blooms between them, Edward and Ivy must take refuge in each other as doubt and suspicion erupts all around them. In order to save the relationship between septs and make sure that a baby boy has a better life, the pair must unearth a dark secret of Sept Gilroy that will shock everyone.

Joined By The Highlander is the thirteenth book in the Highlander Forever series, perfect for fans of brooding heroes, intrepid heroines, and page-turning time-travel romance. Grab your copy today, and enter the exciting world of Highlander Forever!

 

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Release date: April 19, 2024

Print pages: 198

Sample

CHAPTER 1

 

"Hey, Ivy!"

Ivy Jones was halfway across the parking lot when she heard the voice — with a sigh, she did her best to scrub the weary look from her face before turning around. The sun was low in the sky and she squinted through the rich orange light, seeing a familiar figure hastening across the wet parking lot toward her.

"Dana," she said, fixing her most professional smile on her face. "Long day today, huh?"

"Sorry, I don't want to hold you up. I just — wanted to say thanks, again, in case I don't get a chance later. For your testimony, I mean." Despite her neatly applied makeup, Dana still looked exhausted… and no wonder. Nearing the end of a messy divorce and a drawn-out custody battle, it was a miracle she was still on her feet, let alone taking the time to chase Ivy down after God only knew how many days of battling her ex-husband.

"Of course," Ivy said, feeling an odd mix of warmth and uneasiness — as always — about the vivid look of gratitude on the woman's face. It was sad, knowing how unusual it was for women in Dana's situation to have someone in their corner. "I mean, I only told them the facts as I see them, you know?"

"Still. Your opinion carries a lot of weight. And you didn't have to come all the way down here, do all this."

"You know me. Whatever helps us do what's best for Emma, I'll do it. How is she, by the way?"

"Much better this week. That info sheet you made for my mom helped a bunch." Dana smiled wanly. "She wouldn't listen to me, of course, but the moment a doctor tells her what to do…"

"All that student debt has to be good for something," Ivy said with a grin. "So she's on board with the routine?"

"Yep. From what I hear, mornings are running like a well-oiled machine over there. Haven't had a call from Emma's school all week."

"That's amazing," Ivy said, smiling. Dana had been one of her first clients here in Columbus when she'd first set up her practice — she'd known the woman for close to five years now and watched her daughter Emma grow from a toddler to a first-grader. Unfortunately, she'd also witnessed the slow dissolution of Dana's marriage to her now ex-husband Gary — thanks in no small part, she suspected, to the stress of Emma's autism diagnosis. Dana had been an absolute dream of a client throughout the journey. Any resource Ivy mentioned, Dana would seek out — any new strategy Ivy so much as suggested, Dana would try and return with extensive notes at their next session. Gary, on the other hand, was less reliable. He didn't come to many of Emma's appointments, and when he did, he tended to be quiet and uncommunicative. A few times, Dana had confided that Emma's father had expressed his doubts about what he privately referred to as 'this whole autism thing'. As though it was a phase his daughter would simply grow out of, instead of a fundamental aspect of who she was.

So it hadn't surprised Ivy to learn, six months ago, that Dana and Gary were getting a divorce. It had taken quite a toll on Emma, though. As parents often did, both Dana and Gary believed they knew what was best for Emma… and unfortunately, both felt that what was best was for them was to have full custody of the girl. So as the divorce turned ugly, Ivy had been increasingly instrumental in managing the little girl's wellbeing throughout. It had been Ivy's idea that Emma move in with Dana's mother instead of moving back and forth between her mother and father's houses, and she was relieved to hear that it was working out. All children needed routine, but neurodivergent children in particular tended to fall apart without it, and Ivy had been noticing Emma withdrawing and shutting down a lot more since the divorce, their sessions getting a little more difficult… and a lot more important.

Ivy empathized with Gary; she really did. Like most parents, he'd had a pretty clear image of what fatherhood was going to look like, but as his daughter had grown, it had become clear that that image wasn't going to match the reality. Emma was withdrawn, shy, prone to meltdowns that confused and frustrated her parents. At first, Gary had had trouble letting go of his conviction that her symptoms had something to do with a nasty flu she'd come down with as a baby, or with the vaccinations she'd had at around the same time… thankfully, Ivy had had plenty of experience with those conspiracy-laden waters and was able to help the family navigate their way through the worst of it. But Gary had never quite accepted that his daughter was neurodivergent, that she wasn't going to be like other children her age. He regularly brought up Emma's cousins, a few years older than her, as 'proof' that Emma could be 'more normal' if she only tried… and though Ivy always urged him to be patient with her, she could tell that he was still struggling. And as much as she empathized with Gary, she empathized more with Emma, who clearly struggled to understand her father's frustration with her.

No psychologist ever liked testifying about a patient in court. It had felt like an enormous amount of pressure when Dana had come to her with the request… but what else could she have done? With tears in her eyes, Dana explained that Gary was seeking full custody of Emma, that he had decided Dana's approach to her autism diagnosis had been completely wrong. And as much as situations like these were always complicated, Ivy knew in her heart that it was best for Emma to stay with her mother. So she'd agreed to testify. The process had been complex and frightening — not to mention a whole lot of work added to her already over full plate — but if it meant ensuring a better result for Emma, Ivy would move mountains.

"How about you?" Ivy said softly, catching Dana's expression glazing over. "How are you holding up with all this?"

"I'm okay," Dana said with a tremulous smile that told Ivy she was anything but. "I just want the whole thing to be over."

"Not long now, right?"

"That's my mantra," the woman said tiredly. "By the end of the week…"

"You're nearly there," Ivy said gently. "This is an incredibly hard thing you're doing, but I know how strong you are."

"I just don't want it to affect Emma."

"Oh, I'm not worried about Emma." Ivy gave Dana a reassuring smile. "Emma's got a secret weapon."

"What's that?"

"The technical term we use in the business is… 'the best mom ever'."

That won a laugh from Dana, though it was a tired one. "Thanks, Ivy."

"And as much as it's hard to handle at the moment… she's got a good dad, too. Gary loves Emma too, you know?"

"He's got a funny way of showing it," Dana said darkly. Then she rubbed her forehead. "That's not fair, I know. I just — we wouldn't have had to go through all this if he'd just —"

"He's on his own road with this. It's hard now, but one day, he's going to appreciate that you're doing the right thing for your daughter."

"I hope so." Dana closed her eyes for a moment. "Thanks, Ivy. I know all this, but… it's good to hear it from someone else."

Ivy sighed. She hadn't meant to get caught up in such an in-depth conversation in the parking lot of the courthouse — it was already getting dark, and she had preparation to do that night for the next few days of catch-up appointments. But she could tell from Dana's expression that the woman had needed to talk. They said their goodbyes, and Ivy watched Dana head off across the parking lot toward her car. Then she turned back to her own, taking a deep breath before sliding into the passenger seat.

She'd known, way back when she'd chosen her career path, that a lot of her work was going to involve working with the parents and guardians of neurodivergent kids, rather than just spending time with the kids themselves. This week was a perfect example of that. She hadn't seen Emma for two weeks, not since their regular appointment… but she'd seen Dana and Gary almost every day that week. Well, she'd seen more of Gary's lawyer than Gary himself, but still.

It was exhausting, having to explain the nature of her work over and over again in layman's terms, having to define and re-define Emma's condition over and over for the benefit of the curious courtroom. She'd kept her cool, but it was hard not to feel frustrated by the level of understanding of what autistic children went through. So many people still considered the condition something that needed to be treated, suppressed, cured… like it was a disease rather than a different way of thinking. And while it was true that autistic kids like Emma needed a lot more help and support than their neurotypical peers to navigate the world, from Ivy's perspective, it was the world that needed to change, not the kids. Gary's perspective, unfortunately, was just the opposite… that his daughter could change into a neurotypical child if she just tried hard enough. Ivy just hoped that her testimony would go some way to showing that that kind of approach wasn't what was best for Emma. She'd witnessed firsthand how much damage could be done by parents trying to force their children to 'just be normal'.

And that was why she did what she did, in the end. That was why she was able to smile, tired as she was, at the thought of the piles of paperwork waiting for her in her apartment. Every client, every appointment, every interaction with a neurodivergent child or their parents or families represented an opportunity for Ivy to improve their futures, to improve their worlds. No matter how tired she got, Ivy knew that that little flame would never go out.

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

She was humming along to the radio as she pulled out of the courthouse parking lot, flicking on her windshield wipers as the spots of rain that had been falling finally intensified into a light shower. Nightfall had crept up quickly, and she was already looking forward to getting home and into a hot shower. Thoughts about the courthouse were racing around her mind in a tangled jumble, and as much as she tried to let it go and focus on the drive, she couldn't help getting caught up in her worries about the outcome. Should she have spoken more harshly about Gary's conduct with his daughter? There were a lot of red flags in what she'd observed in his behavior, especially how quickly he grew frustrated with her and the unpleasant language he often used to describe her behaviors. She'd done her best to be neutral in her reporting of the facts of the case, not wanting to seem like she was trying to sway the court's opinion one way or the other… but now she was worried she'd been a little too logical. But she'd made it clear what she thought was the best course of action for Emma.

At any rate, it was too late to change anything now. They'd asked her professional opinion, and she'd given it. The decision would be made no matter how much she stressed about it… still, she had to forcefully stop herself from gnawing on her lower lip as she navigated the tail end of rush hour traffic. Nearly home, now.

She'd forgotten that it was a Friday night. She hadn't had a real weekend since before grad school, so it always came as a surprise to realize that people were celebrating the end of their work weeks, and sure enough, traffic slowed to a crawl as she found herself on a stretch of road that featured a lot of the city's nightlife. This was usually the quickest way to her place… at least when drunk people weren't wandering absent-mindedly into the street and forcing everyone to drive at about five miles an hour for fear of hitting a drunken pedestrian.

Gritting her teeth, she made a snap decision and flicked on her turn signal. There was a side road along here that most people thought was a dead end… but locals knew that if you went right down to the end, there was a parking lot from which an enterprising driver could sneak out onto an adjoining street. She didn't take the shortcut often, but right now Ivy wasn't in the mood to sit in her car waiting for a bunch of drunks to get out of her way. So she ducked down the dark side street, feeling a rush of relief to be leaving the traffic behind her.

But that relief quickly turned to dread when she saw a truck pull out of a parking lot up ahead, far too fast, straight into the lane ahead of her.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. For a moment, she couldn't quite believe what she was looking at. The truck, headlights blaring, had pulled right out into the oncoming lane of traffic — surely that couldn't be right. But then she caught a glimpse of the driver, his red face, his unfocused eyes … and realized with a lurch that the parking lot he was pulling out of was directly behind a bar. By the looks of things, he'd been there all afternoon… and from the speed his truck was moving at, she had a feeling he'd slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator, not expecting any traffic to get in his way.

With an eerie calm, she assessed her options. She could honk her horn and hope he moved but relying on a drunk's reaction speed seemed like a fool's errand. She could slam on her brakes, but even if she stopped in time, it was no guarantee that the truck would. Her best shot was to see if she could swerve around him. So with her scream of panic still on her lips, Ivy pumped the brake and pulled hard on the wheel… only to realize, with a flare of panic, that it was already too late. Her car was moving, turning, agonizingly slowly… just fast enough to avoid the head-on collision that they'd been heading for, but not fast enough to avoid the sickening crunch of metal and juddering thump of impact that hit her.

Ivy wasn't sure if she lost consciousness or not. One minute, she was desperately trying to pull her car out of the drunk driver's way… the next, she was in darkness. But it didn't feel like waking up, or even coming to after a bout of unconsciousness — she'd once been knocked unconscious for a few seconds after falling off a horse, and the disorientation when she'd woken up on the ground was still vivid in her memory. This didn't feel like that. It simply felt like all the lights had gone out at once… but at the same time, she realized that she could no longer feel the steering wheel in her hands or the seat of the car beneath her.

For a moment that seemed to last forever, Ivy confronted the possibility that she might be dead.

But she couldn't be, could she? If she was dead, then who was here, wondering about whether she was dead or not? No, she was here. She just couldn't see anything, or hear anything, or feel anything, or figure out where the hell she was. Brain damage? Had she somehow been severed from all of her senses? Just as the magnitude of that prospect began to sink in, Ivy realized with a rush of gratitude that she could, in fact, see something. But it didn't exactly answer her questions.

It was a glow, at first. Just the glow of light, bright enough to make her blink, and that physical gesture was enough to ground her again, making her realize belatedly how disconnected she'd been from her body. No wonder she hadn't been able to feel anything… but she couldn't feel much now, either. The car was certainly not present. She was standing, somewhere, in almost complete darkness, save for that steadily brightening glow. And as she blinked her eyes, she began to make out more detail. The glow was shaped roughly like a human figure. But that didn't make any sense, did it? People didn't glow. What was she looking at, here? Was this some kind of dream? Her thoughts felt more orderly than she'd expect from a dream…

And then there was the brush of a hand against her lower back. It was a light touch, but it seemed to ebb into a pleasant warmth that tingled through her whole body, anchoring her more solidly in her skin. It seemed to carry a message of incredible reassurance, wordless but powerfully articulate. It told her that she was well, that she was safe, that no harm had come to her. And somehow, it told her to be brave in the face of what was coming next. All that, with the touch of a hand on her waist. Not understanding, Ivy felt a smile creep onto her face regardless, and she took a step toward the glowing figure ahead of her. Somehow, she knew that she was among friends, here.

The glowing figure stepped back… and she realized with a start that it wasn't alone. There were more figures, all around her, dozens of them… it was as though they'd all been walking together for quite some time, but her attention had been so fixed on some inconsequential distraction that she hadn't noticed that they were there. Her heart swelled with that same strange feeling of familiarity, tinged with confusion… she knew at once that she'd never met these people before, but that they were her dear friends, and that they cared for her. That they'd done more for her than she'd ever realize or understand. That they believed in her strength, her ability to face the future.

She wanted to speak to them. She wanted to open her mouth to thank them, to ask them who they were, to tell them she appreciated their love, their kindness, their protection… and a thousand more questions were on the heels of those, too. But before she could so much as take a breath to speak, she felt another touch on her back, firmer, this time. An unmistakable instruction to step forward… but where? Toward the figure she'd been looking at… but the figure was gone. Ahead of her was only darkness. They wanted her to step into the darkness? Somehow, she knew that where she was going, she was going alone. The figures had walked with her this far, but they would not be accompanying her through the dark gate ahead. Trepidation, grief, confusion … but those feelings all melted like snow as she felt the figures embrace her.

And with the glow of that strange companionship still warm in her heart, Ivy stepped forward, and felt darkness claim her again as the light of her new friends vanished completely.